


Years Gone By

by bereniceofdale (orphan_account)



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, But maybe it won't, Fluff, Gaston was in the military, Kinda, LeFou and Belle are best friends, LeFou is a nurse, M/M, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, You're Welcome, because is it really a fic written by me if there's no cat, everything you might expect from a reincarnation!au, including Gaston riding a motorbike, knowing myself I've got to tag, there's going to be a cat at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bereniceofdale
Summary: Belle wasn’t the only one who’d been his best friend; there was someone else that LeFou carried everywhere with him, someone he missed without even knowing his name nor his face. A childhood friend, who he’d always followed, always admired, always supported, always loved, until he’d gone too far.Until it had all gone wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to regret starting a long fic but to be honest I don't care anymore, I just want to have some fun :p
> 
> I always reread myself, but this is unbetaed. I'm sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> update: **ORPHANED** because I jumped into it too fast and I'm 100% sure I'm not going to continue it. However I might rewrite it completely in one-shot form, who knows! Keep an eye on my AO3 account, [bereniceofdale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereniceofdale/)! :)

LeFou had not always been called LeFou. 

It had started in elementary school, where he finally brought himself to talk about his little secret; that he’d once been a boy in a small village of France, and remembered much.

Much, but not everything. Names, including his own, were lost to him, as were the voices and forms of the people he’d been close to—they were only blurs, like spectators of a life they’d actually been a part of.

It was like a story he rediscovered over time. He hadn’t just woken up one day and remembered all that had happened—once in a while, he remembered moments and events experienced at the same age he was at the present time, but nothing more. 

No one had ever believed him, of course, including his parents. When LeFou told those he called his friends, he was laughed at. He’d thought being special would make other kids like him more, but in the end, it wasn’t his popularity that grew; it was how many times a week his backpack was emptied in the middle of the street, and kids tripping him so often he kept scars on his knees. 

LeFou figured if telling the truth meant he was crazy, then so be it, he’d be the crazy one. Instead of bowing his head and running away with his tail between his legs, he embraced the insult they made of his family name, and made it his own. 

It became his nickname as well, and though kids’ constant rejection hurt him, he was proud of himself. 

Besides, _LeFou_ sounded strangely right.

Perhaps in that past life he claimed he’d had, LeFou had been called crazy as well. 

Much changed when his family moved to a bigger city. There where no one knew him, LeFou made sure to have a good start—and he did. To his surprise, people liked him; maybe because he didn’t let anyone walk over him too much, and at the same time, was always there to help whoever needed him. He knew how to throw a party and how to listen to broken hearts.

Soon, sending lost newbies to him became a common occurrence. 

The memories didn’t stop coming, though. Over the years the weight of them became too heavy to carry alone, and LeFou came to open up to the first friend he made in high-school; Belle, a girl from the countryside who’d come to the city to study. She didn’t mock him, and believed him right away. It was all he’d needed to feel just a little lighter.

Thanks to her support and his own will, LeFou managed to keep that part of him in a far corner of his mind; not forgotten, but not present enough to influence his life in any way. Some days, he even forgot all about it, and it only sprung up when, for a reason or another, something reminded him of those long past days. 

But years later came the hardest part of it all. 

Belle wasn’t the only one who’d been his best friend; there was someone else that he carried everywhere with him, someone he missed without even knowing his name nor his face. A childhood friend, who he’d always followed, admired, supported, _loved_ , until he’d gone too far. 

Until it had all gone wrong.

  


~•§•~  


“Monsieur LeFou.”

LeFou looked up from the form he’d been helping a patient fill in, laying his pen over the paper. His boss, Miss Haldane, stood before him, eyes wise and kind as she gestured LeFou to join her.

After a smile and asking the patient if he could finish on his own, and LeFou walked up to Miss Haldane, knowing very well what she was here for.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You’ve been taking extra hours again.”

LeFou held his hands behind his back. He shrugged. “I really don’t mind. I like to help.”

“And your help is appreciated, but you cannot spend all your time here,” Miss Haldane said kindly. “Go home. You’ll be needed enough next week.”

With a sigh LeFou nodded, knowing better than to protest; he’d had this conversation many times before, and whenever his boss caught him taking unpaid extra hours, he knew he couldn’t win. Miss Haldane squeezed his shoulder, a sympathetic smile on her lips, before walking away.

LeFou waved the patient goodbye, and off he went. 

LeFou thought he was very lucky to do the job he’d dreamed of since he was a kid—not many of his high-school friends could say the same. Working in the clinic wasn’t always easy, but all the good moments outweighed the bad, and there was nothing LeFou would exchange his life for. 

Once out, now in his regular clothes (jeans, a white shirt, and a beige waistcoat) and a deep breath of fresh air taken, he took out his phone.

> 11:38 P.M. - to **B. [book emoji]** : still awake?
> 
> 11:39 P.M. - from **B. [book emoji]** : Yes. You know I can’t put a book down on a Saturday night. Or three for that matter. 
> 
> 11:41 P.M. - to **B. [book emoji]** : not a surprise :p how was work?
> 
> 11:42 P.M. - from **B. [book emoji]** : I can’t believe you’re still asking me that. Is it really work if it doesn’t feel like it?
> 
> 11:42 P.M. - from **B. [book emoji]** : You just left work yourself, didn’t you?
> 
> 11:43 P.M. - to **B. [book emoji]** : maybe
> 
> 11:43 P.M. - from **B. [book emoji]** : You’re impossible! Think you can stop by tomorrow? I found something for you.
> 
> 11:44 P.M. - to **B. [book emoji]** : oh thank you, sure! see you tomorrow then :)
> 
> 11:44 P.M. - from **B. [book emoji]** : See you tomorrow! Try to enjoy your Sunday morning for once.

Chuckling to himself, LeFou put his phone back in his jeans pocket. As he retrieved his bicycle, LeFou wondered what Belle might have found—he could never guess. Sometimes it was a book, sometimes exotic ingredients for his cooking, sometimes even clothes. After a while, he’d given up trying to guess, but knew he would likely not be disappointed.

He would never be, anyway—as they say, it’s the thought that counts, and it meant a lot to him. 

The ride home was a quiet one.

The clinic LeFou worked in wasn’t far from his apartment, in a quiet part of the city. At this hour, most people were either home or out for a nice evening, and so the roads weren’t busy. On such nights, LeFou liked to take his time—nothing but his bed waited for him at home anyway. There was rarely any need to rush. 

He came to a stop at a red light, where an impressive old school motorbike pulled up beside him. LeFou glanced at it and its rider.

The bike was black, and the rider wearing a red leather jacket like LeFou had never seen before. Most people went for black or brown, didn’t they? LeFou shrugged to himself. It wasn’t of any importance, was it?

When the light turned green, the biker saluted LeFou with two of his fingers. LeFou could easily picture the smirk on the stranger’s face, hidden by his helmet. The bike roared—louder than was necessary, in LeFou’s opinion. He didn’t know much about motorbikes, but enough to tell. 

Biker and bike were quick to be out of sight.

“Show off,” LeFou muttered under his breath. 

He was home before midnight. 

As always the building was calm, and when he opened the door of his apartment, the moon was shining through the windows, bathing the livingroom of its light. LeFou always had mixed feelings whenever he came home—perhaps it was why he always tried to avoid it for as long as he could. 

On one hand, it was always a relief; it felt good to be home, to find peace and rest in a place he’d made his own. 

On the other, it never failed to remind him how lonely he was. 

He’d been roommates with Belle for many years, until things had turned serious with her boyfriend, Adam. When that had happened, it’d been time to move on and find a new place to call home. LeFou had thought he’d manage easily, at first. But in the end, it’d been harder than expected. 

That was why he never stayed home too long if he could avoid it. LeFou never felt more alive than when he worked, visited his friends, or walked the city streets and listened to the many artists entertaining passers-by. He always had a few coins to give them. 

A sigh, and LeFou closed the door behind him. 

Sleep found him quickly that night. 

He woke on the sofa, only then realizing it might have been a bad idea given the discomfort that now lingered in his back. 

Picking up his phone from the low table, LeFou yawned. The screen read 10:37 A.M. At least, he could tell Belle he had indeed enjoyed his Sunday morning with well deserved rest. 

Thinking it was a good time to visit her, LeFou promptly started to get ready. A shower, new clothes—though similar to the ones he’d worn the day before—a good breakfast made of eggs, toasts and beans, and he was out in no time, breathing in the pleasantly warm air of late spring. 

He still regretted the sofa, though, and it was with a grunt that he got on his bicycle. 

Belle lived further away from the city, closer to its greener parts. She’d found the perfect place; close to the quiet of nature, while remaining close to everything she loved about the city as well. The only downside: there was no good bakery around, and so LeFou liked to buy some pastries before stopping by, knowing it would make her happy. 

Which was exactly what he intended to do today. He got pains au chocolat and croissants for three, and went on his way—but didn’t go far. 

LeFou had not made it to the end of the road when he was hit and thrown off his bicycle by something coming from an adjacent street. His shriek as he met the ground was drowned under the roar of an engine. 

It abruptly stopped.

The first thing LeFou saw when he dared to open his eyes, was the broken wheel of his bicycle, and his flattened, ruined bag of pastries. Better the food than himself though, he thought with a wince. 

Thankfully, LeFou managed to sit up without problem. Except for bloodied palms and knees, and certainly some bruises, he would have felt fine on more than a physical level if his heart didn’t beat faster than it’d ever had before. And if his spirits weren’t so foggy he could barely tell what had just happened. 

“Couldn’t you be more careful?” a voice asked as a tall form appeared before him, bending down to quickly check on him, before giving all his attention to the front of his bike instead.

That was enough to make LeFou regain the rest of his spirits. He gaped at the man, which he instantly recognized as the biker from the night before, thanks to his jacket and, oddly enough, the way his arrogance clearly made him who he was. If it had a scent, LeFou was certain it could be smelled by dogs from miles away. 

He couldn’t believe his ears—nor his eyes for that matter. _“Excuse me?”_ LeFou scoffed. “I’m lucky you weren’t going any faster.”

The biker barely spared him a glance. He gave a satisfied pat to his bike before straightening up. 

Much to LeFou’s surprise, he then extended his hand to him without a word.

“No, thank you,” LeFou muttered, before standing up on his own with a muffled groan. He’d definitely have bruises—perhaps more than he’d thought. 

LeFou wanted to tell the stranger the least he could do was to apologize, but something told him it wouldn’t be of any use. He didn’t have to see his face to know the guy didn’t seem the type to say sorry. 

And, indeed, instead of saying anything, the stranger merely took off his helmet, which he put on his seat, before facing LeFou again, a dashing, fake smile on his lips.

LeFou gulped, taken aback. 

He couldn’t deny the face somehow matched what he’d figured about the stranger so far, which he hadn’t expected. The man truly was stunning; beautiful eyes, good smile, hair like LeFou had never seen before. He had no idea how this man could make a ponytail look good in this day and age. 

At least, his arrogance seemed to have a good reason to exist. Too bad it didn’t seem to follow personality-wise.

On top of that, LeFou couldn’t explain the feeling of familiarity the man gave off—strangely similar, though stronger, to the one he’d felt upon meeting Belle.

The stranger took out his phone. LeFou watched, puzzled, as he created a new contact. 

“Give me your number.”

“What?”

“Your number,” he repeated. “Don’t sue me, and I’ll buy you a new one.”

LeFou’s brows furrowed. It hadn’t even crossed his mind yet. 

“I’d rather have it fixed, thank you.” 

The stranger looked down to the bicycle with a judgemental, raised eyebrow. LeFou gritted his teeth.

“Fine, I’ll have it fixed then,” he said. “It’s not like I care.”

He extended his hand again, flashing another smile, which this time looked just a tad more genuine. Like he’d not just almost run over LeFou in the middle of the street. 

“By the way,” he said. “I’m Gaston.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~this is probably the most fanfic-y fic I've ever written~~  
>     
> I'm still trying to decide what LeFou's first name will be... (I have a few ideas, just gotta pick one!) but wait and see!
> 
> I don't know how long this is going to be... probably as long as it needs to! 
> 
> Nothing motivates me more than Kudos and comments, no matter whether or not you have a lot to say! Let me know if you enjoyed this first chapter, and thanks for reading! I hope you're up for more! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here](http://barduil.tumblr.com) and don't hesitate to send me asks/messages about my stories!! <3


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